


dreams on a gold wire

by celestialnovak



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: M/M, i just felt the need to post something bc there was no murphamy reunion, idk what else, man. a sappy stupid drabble, new houses childish habits a lot of lists
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-05 08:41:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6697801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celestialnovak/pseuds/celestialnovak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>boyfriends and their new house. </p><p>(bit of a stretch imagining these two as responsible adults but just bare with me.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	dreams on a gold wire

**Author's Note:**

> for jen. 
> 
> compensation for putting a line from one of your tweets in here

Bellamy pulls Murphy out of bed one morning and ushers him away from their dingy apartment to the car, mumbling something about a surprise and pushing a thermos of coffee into his hands.

Murphy fills the car ride with questions of where they're going and out of tune singing to songs on the radio. Bellamy keeps his eyes on the road and tries to keep the smile off his face.  
"What are you up too Bellamy Blake?" Murphy mutters, eyes narrowed after a particularly terrible rendition of an Arctic Monkeys song.   
Bellamy doesn't say anything, prompting Murphy to fold his arms stare pointedly out of the window.

They arrive at a small house at the end of a long lane of trees.

Murphy steps out of the car wordlessly and stands at the doorstep, still in plaid pyjama pants and a faded t-shirt from pride last year.

  
"This is it Murph," Bellamy turns to him with a soft smile, eyes crinkled at the corners.   
Murphy laughs. "It's a joke right? There's no way we can afford this."

The freckled man searches in the pocket of his jacket and pulls out a set of keys, tossing them to his partner. "Not a joke."   
Murphy catches them with both hands at the last second. He holds them close to his face, frowning slightly and looking a little teary eyed.   
When Murphy pulls him into a bone crushing hug, Bellamy pretends not to notice the damp patch on his shirt where Murphy's cheek was, or the way he rubs at his eyes.   
The chestnut haired boy bumps his shoulder against Bellamy's.

"You gonna carry me in bridal style or what?"

 

~

 

They move in next week, with the help of Emori and Octavia.   
Boxes are packed and loaded into the back of Lincoln's pickup truck, adorned with Murphy's scrawled handwriting and crooked smiley faces.  
Emori and Murphy insist on riding in the back with the boxes to "Keep them safe," (Emori's words) and they sit crosslegged and content among the cardboard boxes, laughing about things that only they find funny. Octavia rolls her eyes from the driver's seat, unable to hide the smirk on her face.

Bellamy feels a little emotional saying goodbye to their cramped apartment.

He traces his fingers over the faded wine stain on the living room wall, where Murphy had gotten a little over zealous playing monopoly. In the kitchen he says goodbye to their leaky tap, hoping the future owners will be bothered to fix it. He stares at the tiny holes in their bedroom wall, where Murphy had pinned up pictures of them together and some photos of dogs he found on the internet.

Then he reclaims his oldest leather jacket from the back of the door, (Where it's been hanging the entire three years they'd lived there) and locked the door for the last time.

Octavia shouts for him to "Get his slow ass over here," and he hears Murphy's brazen laugh, pulling him out of the nostalgia he'd been wrapped in.  
As soon as he closes the door Octavia fixes him with a pointed look.   
"We all ready to go, captain?" Emori calls out, tapping a short tune on the side of the truck.   
"Yeah!"   
And then the engine starts and they leave their old home behind.

"Bell?" Octavia asks when they're almost halfway there, voice barely audible above Emori and Murphy's shouts.

"Is there a specific reason why you're moving now?" She chews her bottom lip as she turns a corner.   
Bellamy blinks. "It just felt like the right time." He turns in his seat to look through the back window and into the back of the truck. Murphy's head is tilted back and his eyes are closed, hair pushed back by the wind with a dopey smile on his face.

"I think I'm in love with him, O."

Octavia just scoffs, but Bellamy doesn't miss the softness in her eyes.

 

~

 

They settle into the house fairly quickly. Its just big enough to still be considered cosy, and they fill it with odd furniture and strange souvenirs from past holidays. Their friends donate some housewarming gifts too- some plants from Monty, a blindingly red toaster from Emori, new copies of Bellamy's favourite books from Octavia and Lincoln, and a few of Clarke's paintings.

Bellamy paints the walls of their bedroom the nicest shade of blue they can find at the hardware store. Murphy accidentally leans on the paint tray and manages to surreptitiously leave a blue handprint on Bellamy's ass while he kisses him.

Their weekdays are pretty busy- with Bellamy working at the bookshop and Murphy's hours in the coffee shop.   
But they still make time to see each other- dancing in the kitchen while making dinner; Bellamy twirling Murphy around while he laughs raucously over the music, talking about their day underneath the blankets at night; when the only light is from the moon filtering in through their open window.

They spend their weekends together as often as possible. In their bedroom, Murphy's head on Bellamy's chest as he reads to him, poking at his reading glasses and mumbling that he's a "huge history nerd". In their living room, watching bad movies just to make snide comments and see who can make the other laugh the most. In their garden, backs pressed against the grass with entwined fingers- pointing out the stars and pondering the secrets of the universe. Murphy tells Bellamy all his theories about the existence of alien life.

"Do you think our souls are made of the same star?" Bellamy says one night when they're both a little drunk. He turns to face his boyfriend.  
Murphy thinks about it for a moment; cheeks flushed with the cold night air and the alcohol, eyes as bright as the stars above them. "Maybe."

 

"Then- do you think that's why we're together? Not because of coincidence, but.. destiny. Like, our souls have been looking for their other half all this time, and finally found it."

"I think that's a bit gay."

 

~

 

The house becomes a home. It bears the marks of their relationship; a dent in the wall where Murphy attempted to throw a hairdryer at Bellamy during one of their worse arguments, a dark line of permanent marker trailing over the hardwood floor from when Bellamy had tickled Murphy while he was labelling christmas presents. Small scorch marks on their blue bedroom, when Murphy had tried to create a romantic mood but put the candles too close to the wall.   
  
The house also sees the everyday marks of their relationship. Notes left on the fridge, signed with an X or a scribbly drawing of a frowny stick man and his curly haired boyfriend. Breakfasts in bed even though Bellamy hates the way Murphy manages to leave crumbs in the sheets every time. The way Murphy always makes tea for Bellamy in the morning, despite not liking tea himself.

And Bellamy can't help but think that they moved in at exactly the right time, and that he's definitely in love with John Murphy.


End file.
